Body Language
by GeoffryDinosaur
Summary: Sometimes hate and love walk a very fine line. Sometimes they don't. No words are needed for Harry and Draco to say what they need to say. This isn't a story of romance, it's of hate and lust, and accepting that things won't change.


The events that occurred between Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter were of no suprise to anyone- but themselves of course. There is a fine line between love and hate, neither boy was particularly adept at walking it.

Popular belief in Hogwarts was that the hatred shared between Malfoy and Potter was simply a cover for a sordid romance. Attraction neither was willing to acknowledge was more like it. Another theory was that Harry's denial of Malfoy's hand in friendship ignighted the whole thing- Malfoy wanted, needed and craved his attention, until it became undeniable that he wanted Harry. This wasn't the case. This is no tale of romance, nor affection and love. A bond instead was forged of hatred and sexual desire. Not love.

It all started with a fight like any other. But something kept drawing both of them closer. Draco couldn't help but notice the angry flush spread across Harry's face, or the way his lips as he shouted louder and louder, encrouching upon Draco's personal bubble.

To say the least, Draco found himself suprised as he threw himself bodily at Potter. His lips found Harry's biting down hard, his hands tangling angrily into his hair. He forced Potter backwards into a wall, putting his whole body into that punishing kiss. He was forcing all his rage and hatred into that kiss, all the pent up desire.

While Malfoy forced his ministrations onto Harry, he had a initially gone rigid in shock. He had not expected this to say the least. His wits returning, Harry pushed against Malfoy's chest, trying to dislodge the blonde's mouth from his own. Malfoy countered by pushing against him harshly, backing him farther into the wall. Harry did what occurred to him first. He punched Malfoy in the face.

"What the fuck Potter!" Malfoy exclaimed, pulling away from Harry and wiping his mouth. Harry shoved him away, putting as much force into it as he could. Malfoy staggered back a few steps, but managed to stay standing.

"I may as well say the same to you, bastard! What the fuck was that all about!"

"Oh don't go getting your noble sensibilities all in a twist Potter. I'm a horny teenage boy, and that was a much better occupation of your mouth"

Harry yet again lunged at Malfoy, seeking to punch him again. They fell to the ground wrestling, each trying to land a punch in. Malfoy bustetd one of Harry's already bruised lips open before Harry over powered him. Harry found himself straddling Malfoy, socking him again and again, anywhere he could reach. But he wasn't getting the satisfaction he felt he needed from it. Pausing and panting hard, he looked down at Malfoy, bruises were already blooming but the stinging in his lip lessened the guilt. Malfoy had his eyes closed, breathing heavily, and a pink flush worked it's way from his face down his neck. Harry felt himself being pulled by an invisible force, closer and closer to that panting mouth.

Harry kissed Malfoy. He couldn't really help it. If he were to ask himself later, he would have had no idea what possessed him to do it. All he knew was that Malfoy looked so goddamn breakable, and he wanted nothing more than to posses him, to break him down. The fragility was endearing yet angering. He wanted to hit him till every bone in his hand was crushed. But he also wanted to fuck him so hard that he forget everything but Harry's name.

Harry had never felt that before. He had Malfoy pinned under him, at his mercy and captured in a grueling kiss; their tounges battled for dominance and neither was willing to lose. The way Malfoy struggled against Harry was so hot, the way he needed to reassert his power too.

-–-

This was so much better than fighting. How had he ever lived without it?

They both could easily live with this. They met in hidden places, slamming each other into walls, tearing and pawing at each other unrelenting in their desire to exude dominance over the other. It started out with snogging. Faces mashed together and hands raking down each others backs in combintion of pleasure and pain. But soon they were moving forward. Tearing each others clothing off, rough hand jobs with quick completion and they dug their teeth into one anothers necks. As long as they kept going they didn't have to question it. What they were doing together, what it meant.

Harry didn't want to question his sexuality. He didn't want to know where this was going. He didn't want for this to mean something. So he backed Draco into corners letting all his rage fill him and leave him as they brought one another off, not daring to make eye contact. Just fulilling the needs they came to fulfill.

Draco didn't want to know what this meant. He didn't want to stop to feel. He didn't want to talk. He just needed a way to get it out- All these emotions that seemed to fill him, force their way out. They seemed to tangle in the pit of his stomach. Potter's mouth rushing to meet his took the edge off things, made him feel like he wasn't drowning anymore. That pleasure, mixed with pain reminded him that he was human, and he imagined it was the same for Potter.

At some point things changed. Neither boy could pinpoint the exact moment. But at some point things had evolved. It wasn't just rough fucks against unused classroom walls. They started taking their time. They began to meet one anothers eyes, often mirroring looks of determination and defiance. And one night, they slept together.

As they would tell it, a particularly rough romp in the Astronomy Tower wore them down, and

neither felt up to the task of navigating the castle. They fell asleep aside each other. But during the process of the night, they had found their way into each others arms. The nightmares stayed away, and for the first time in a long time, they felt rested.

This staying the night buisness quickly became more routine. They would find themselves in the room of requirement, curling around each other, without words. They didn't need words.

They made each other feel human. Neither was going to change the other, it was best words were left to others. Let their bodies do the talking.

It is said that when seen, both Potter and Malfoy's were just as fierce. After all, who could get a

rise better out of each other than the other? However, the renewed glint in their eyes and teasing edge to their voices did not go unnoticed.


End file.
